Let Me In
by StillColdInAlaska
Summary: Emily/Paige twoshot set after 1.19, "A Person of Interest." Paige can't keep up her wall forever, nor can she force her feelings away, no matter how hard she tries. Trigger warning: this story involves self harm.
1. Relapse

This is the first fan fiction I've ever posted and, to be honest, I'm a bit nervous. I've read so many great fics by very talented writers recently (especially in the PLL community here), and I hope my writing can keep up with everyone else's! Please leave a comment if you wish - constructive criticism is definitely welcome. :) **Warning: **This story involves self harm and could be triggering - read at your own risk.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Pretty Little Liars. Please don't sue me.

* * *

><p>Chapter 1 - "Relapse"<p>

"**I can't risk being seen with you."**

Of course Emily had been hurt.

"**I can't risk being seen with you."**

Of course Emily now wanted to remain friends instead of something more.

"**I can't risk being seen with you."**

_Of course Emily didn't want to be pushed back into the closet by a coward like you. It's not like you deserve her anyway._

Paige couldn't stop thinking about what she had said to Emily at their picnic. Everything had been going so well and then she had ruined it with her cowardice and her big mouth and her "I can't risk being seen with you." And Emily had sat up and widened the space between them and explained something that Paige had really knew all along - that Emily couldn't wait for her. She couldn't go back to that place of self-hatred and fear where she used to reside. And why should she? Someone as gorgeous and honest and warm and _perfect_ as Emily Fields had no business being with someone as plain and awkward and terrified as Paige McCullers. When something felt too good to be true - like Emily kissing her back, her of all people - it usually was.

* * *

><p>It had been a day since Paige had seen or even talked to the raven-haired beauty, but she was all the swimmer could think about, and it was exhausting her. <em>Stop thinking about something that can never be. She doesn't want you. It's over with.<em> But no matter how many times Paige chastised herself into behaving, into _not_ thinking about the electricity between their lips as they kissed, the warmth she felt as they held hands, the butterflies she got when Emily smiled just for her, she couldn't stop. It was like Emily had slipped beneath the cold, hard shell that she had constructed for herself and softly implanted herself in Paige's heart. And that could _not_ happen. It just couldn't. So Paige was doing everything in her power to quit - quit thinking, quit reacting, quit feeling.

She had just gotten home from the library, where she had spent nearly three hours working on her History project. It was true that she had to get it done - it was due early next week - but throwing herself into the specificities of the Byzantine Empire was also meant to be a distraction from thinking about Emily. Too bad it didn't work. While her fingers were dancing along the spines of books on the shelves, while she took neat notes from dusty old pages, while she traced out detailed brainstorming charts, she couldn't get the other athlete out of her mind. No matter how hard she worked, told herself to _concentrate_, for God's sake, the conversation at their picnic was always there, nagging her from the back of her brain. And with it came her insecurities and her inadequacies, telling her in soft persistent voices that she wasn't good enough, that she would never be good enough, especially for Emily.

* * *

><p>Paige looked at the clock on her nightstand - it was nearing ten o'clock. She needed to be up by five to be at swim practice on time, and she still needed to shower and pack her bag for school tomorrow. She sighed, sitting down heavily on her bed, and began digging through her backpack, making sure her school things were in order.<p>

_Math book, notebooks, English folder, calculator, pencil case, copy of __Brave New World__. Check._

She kept hoping for her phone to buzz, signaling a text, and looking at the screen to find Emily's name. But her phone stayed still and silent on her bedside table, where she had left it within reach. So Paige got up and made her way to the bathroom, stripping off clothes as she went, leaving a trail across her carpet. She shut the door, started the shower, and stood in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection and waiting for the water to get hot.

_I hate you. _She thought suddenly to her reflection. _If you didn't fuck this up, maybe you would be with Emily right now, instead of standing in your bathroom, wallowing in your own misery._

The worst part wasn't even the negative thoughts that she was having toward herself. No, those came often and easily now, after years of her father pushing her harder and harder, always with the roundabout hinting that being herself just wasn't enough to be Nick McCullers' daughter. The worst part by far was the pain she had caused Emily - beautiful, sweet, wonderful Emily, who had given her more chances than she deserved. Even after Paige had mocked her, tried to scare her by dunking her in the pool, jumped her in the car, and then told her to forget that the kiss had ever happened, Emily had been nothing but patient and kind.

Paige felt a headache start to throb at her temples, and she opened the medicine cabinet, searching for some aspirin to stop it before it began. When she finally found it, hidden behind the Benadryl, her hand knocked just about the entire contents of the shelf into the sink. _Shit._ She hastily began putting everything back in its place, the aspirin momentarily forgotten, when her hand brushed against something flat and cold. The redhead looked down, already knowing instinctively what she would find, but needing to see it anyway. In the bottom of her sink sat a razorblade. The one that she used to discretely carry on her person at all times.

It had started in the first few months of sixth grade, when she had started getting _those_ feelings. The ones that told her she liked girls, and only girls, as more than friends. It had hit her one day, like a slap to the face, in the locker room right before gym class. She had been changing, just like everyone else, and her friend Claire had asked her a question, turned to her in her gym shorts and a training bra, and Paige just knew, deep in her gut, that it wasn't admiration or friendly feelings that made her stare at Claire's barely clad figure.

She had freaked out about it all day, long after Claire had put her shirt back on, through all nine class periods, on the bus, walking from the bus stop to her house, through homework and dinner and a movie before bed. So when she found a discarded razorblade in the hall closet while searching for a clean towel, she had taken it, and in the seclusion of her bathroom, had slid the cold blade along the smooth skin of her stomach. She pressed lightly at first, then deeper, until there was a trail of deep crimson blood behind the razorblade. She was scared, of her ability to hurt herself like that, of her feelings toward Claire, and of the way she felt just a little bit better after she made herself bleed. So she had continued to cut, at first two or three times a week, then once a day, then it got so bad that she began to carry the blade with her everywhere, would sneak off to the bathrooms during the school day to get her fix.

She had stopped the summer before eighth grade, her stomach crisscrossed with light scars (because that was the only place she could hide them beneath a swimsuit), and began suppressing every one of her feelings instead. Instead of allowing herself to feel that pain, of being different and weird and wrong, and then allowing herself to medicate herself by spilling her own blood, which only caused momentary relief, Paige just decided to stuff everything inside herself. She built up her walls so thick and so tall that not one drop of emotion could spill out, so that no one could worm their way in and ever make her feel that way again.

So here Paige was again, in a situation nearly the mirror of the one that had occurred almost four years ago. She stood naked in her bathroom, the door locked securely, the razorblade held gingerly in her fingertips. Her other hand rested softly on her stomach, running lightly over the old scars that still lingered there, a reminder of what she had once done to suppress the pain that she was now feeling all over again. Her heart was beating so fast that she could feel it in her throat. That wall that she had built up so earnestly for herself was crumbling. It was full of cracks, and her feelings were slowly leaking out; they had been ever since she had slipped quietly into Emily's car and stolen a kiss. So she needed this, this physical pain, she deserved it.

"I deserve it," she whispered quietly to herself as the blade made contact with her soft flesh. She cried out softly, mindful that her father was asleep just next door, as she felt it bite into her skin, looked down and saw the bright blood that now adorned her stomach. She lifted the razorblade, moved it, pressed it into herself again, and again, and again. A silent tear slipped down her cheek as she continued to mutilate herself.

"I deserve it. I deserve it. I deserve it." It became almost like a chant of self-hatred. She finally stopped, her hand shaking visibly, barely able to see through her tears. Paige dropped her eyes to see her handiwork, and it was a shock to see just how many cuts there were. "Fuck," she spit out angrily. The furious red lines, some slowly oozing blood, covered her stomach in a large patch, nearly as big as her hand. Paige rinsed off the razorblade in the sink, washing off the physical evidence, and shoved the blade back into the depths of her medicine cabinet. She was angry with herself for caving, for going back to cutting, and she was even more angry that she felt bad about reverting back to it. _You deserve it, remember?_

Paige stepped into the shower, closed the curtain behind her, and allowed the water to run over her body. The spray was washing away the blood from her self-inflicted wounds, but the marks were still there, a reminder of her weakness. The reality of her relapse was beginning to set it, and she wondered if she was strong enough to make this the only incident. Then her thoughts turned to Emily again, as always, and she doubted her resolve. She didn't _want_ to suppress her feelings for easily the most beautiful girl in Rosewood. She didn't _want _to have to slice into her own flesh to punish herself for hurting Emily. She didn't _want_ to spend her nights alone, with only her thoughts to keep her company. But she wasn't brave enough - _couldn't_ be brave enough - to have the only person that she really wanted.

* * *

><p>She shut off the water, and began to get ready for bed. Going to bed with her head still wet would be a disastrous idea, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Pulling back the comforter on her bed, she set her alarm clock to a ridiculously early 5 am, and climbed into bed. But before she shut off the light, Paige grabbed her phone from her nightstand. She flipped it open, pressed the button for her contacts, and scrolled down to "Emily Fields." Reading the name alone caused tiny butterflies to flutter in her stomach. She clicked, and a picture of Emily flooded the screen, a picture that Paige had taken right after their foray into karaoke. She had said something to make Emily laugh, and had snapped a picture of her, eyes sparkling and smile wide. Paige's lips curved into a sad smile at the memory, and she abruptly snapped her phone shut and placed it beside her on the table. She clicked off the light and turned onto her side. While she pulled the comforter and sheet around herself, the fabric of her shirt brushed her cuts and she winced at the sensation.<p>

"I'm sorry," Paige whispered to her darkened room, though whom she was speaking to, she was unable to say.


	2. Ready

This is the second and final part of "Let Me In" - I hope the ending isn't too cheesy, but sometimes I'm a sucker for happy endings. :) Thank you so much to everyone who read my story, marked it into their favorites, and left comments - I really appreciate it. Extra special thanks go to xUNSP0KEN, who left the very first comment and made my week with her sweet words. I'm sure I'll be back soon with another story if you would like to read more of my work. Enjoy! **Warning: **This story involves self harm and could be triggering - read at your own risk.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Pretty Little Liars. Please don't sue me.

* * *

><p>Chapter 2 - "Ready"<p>

5 o'clock came fast, and when Paige's alarm blared out into the morning light, she groggily threw out an arm and turned it off. She flipped off the covers, shivering against the cool air that hit her body, and wished that she could just roll over and go back to sleep. But she had to leave for the pool in an hour, so she got out of bed and walked over to her closet to pick out clothes for the day. Paige stripped off her pajamas and cringed at the sight of her stomach. She could've almost pushed last night out of her mind, categorized it as a bad dream, if it weren't for the scabs now littering her skin. Paige fingered the marks carefully, and everything came rushing back into her mind at once - her feelings for Emily and the hurt that she had caused her and the self hatred that had come bubbling up last night, causing her to cut again. She shook her head abruptly, trying to shake the thoughts out of her head.

_No. You won't think like that. You can't, _she thought. Then she got dressed carefully, being sure not to bump her stomach, and walked into the bathroom. The decision to not dry her hair before bed had turned out to be a terrible one, as now Paige's hair had dried into something that looked half Flock of Seagulls and half sex hair. _Great, _she thought, and tried to wrangle it into something resembling a ponytail. She pushed her bangs back with a headband and sighed. _That'll have to do. _She brushed her teeth, then hastily walked back out into her room and made her bed. She'd gotten the neatness lecture often enough, and surely wasn't in the mood for it today.

Paige looked at the clock - it was 5:32 - just enough time to get downstairs, eat breakfast, then bike her way to school for swim practice. Her father wouldn't even be up at this hour, and she mentally breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't that she didn't love her father, but she didn't feel up to awkward breakfast conversation revolving exclusively around schoolwork and how to improve her times in swimming. Or, worse, a conversation about "that Fields girl" and how she was a "bad influence" on Paige. Last time that had happened, the redhead had gotten so furious that she had slammed her cereal bowl into the sink so hard that it broke, and that was definitely something that she didn't want to repeat.

Paige made her way downstairs and fixed herself a bowl of oatmeal. She sat down at the dining room table, eating quietly, and fiddled with her phone. She toyed with the idea of texting Emily - a simple "Hey, how are you?" - but everything she typed had seemed inappropriate somehow. So she set her phone down and ate morosely, in total silence, her left hand straying underneath her shirt every once and a while to absentmindedly stroke the self-inflicted wounds there. She finished her oatmeal and juice, and went outside to grab her bike.

* * *

><p>The ride to school passed uneventfully. There were hardly any people out at this hour, and, in fact, she had only seen three cars on the road and one person walking their dogs in the fifteen minutes it took for her to bike to Rosewood High School. She locked up her bike and walked into the building. Her shoes slapping on the linoleum were the only sound to be heard until she got closer to the locker room entrance. Her teammates were beginning to flood into the locker room, talking amongst themselves, some eager to get into the pool, others tired and reserved at this hour. Paige followed them in, nodding and smiling a few "hellos" to girls she swam with, but barely knew. After the Claire fiasco back in sixth grade, she had stayed away from conversations and friendly relationships in the locker room. Once she reached her locker, she unlocked it and pulled out her practice suit. She found herself wondering where Emily was, when she would get here, and what the hell she was going to say to her when she did.<p>

Paige tried to relax, to put thoughts of Emily out of her mind, but with what happened last night, and the promise of seeing the other girl in a few short minutes, she was tense. She stifled a yawn as she shoved her backpack and coat into her locker. This was going to be a long practice - she could feel it already.

"Late night last night?"

Paige jumped when she heard the voice from the next locker over. Without even turning around, she knew who it was. But she turned anyway, forcing a smile onto her face, determined not to act like an idiot in front of Emily again.

"Um, yeah. I was at the library working on my History project," she answered. _God, she's beautiful. How does she look this good this early in the morning?_ Emily smiled and Paige felt her stomach drop into her feet. And there it was - she felt all of her willpower regarding Emily dissolve away the moment she smiled.

"I've barely started on mine. What's your topic?" Emily asked sweetly as she removed her top. _Shit. Oh, shit. Stop staring, McCullers, now! _Paige's eyes automatically roved over her teammate's expanse of newly exposed tanned skin. She could imagine the feel of Emily's body under her hands, and Paige's own body tingled with the thought of it. She felt Emily's eyes on her and looked up, only to see the brunette looking at her with an amused expression on her face, cocking one eyebrow. Paige blushed fiercely and managed to tear her eyes away to focus on changing and answering Emily's question.

"Uh, um, the Byzantine Empire." She stumbled on her words and it was obvious, _so obvious_, that she had been checking Emily out. Paige swung her locker door open so it was between them, effectively blocking the view of a nearly naked Emily. _Stop it. Don't get distracted. It's not going to happen. Besides…you deserve it. _"Shit," she said softly, remembering her mutilated stomach. Putting her chlorine soaked suit on would be painful, but she couldn't let Emily see what she had been doing last night. She started by slipping the bottom half of the swimsuit into place. And just in time, too, because Emily had quietly stepped over to Paige and pushed her locker door flush against the other ones, destroying the barricade that Paige had put in place. She was also clad in the bottom half of her swimsuit, her breasts only covered in her bra. _Oh, Jesus rollerblading Christ. _Emily touched the redhead's arm softly, keeping her voice low, as she knew their teammates were just an aisle over.

"Hey, it's okay, Paige. I was serious when I said that I would be here for you."

"Yeah, I - okay," Paige responded, her tongue clogging her throat with Emily touching her arm, so close and barely clothed at all.

"And I totally don't mind you checking me out," Emily added, smirking softly.

"What? I don't know what you - I wasn't…" Paige cleared her throat nervously. "I wasn't checking you out!"

"Okay, whatever you say." Emily was still teasing her with that smile, and Paige was going to downright explode if these exchanges kept happening between them. The brunette unhooked her bra and let it fall, exposing her entire bare back to her, and Paige felt her heart rate speed up noticeably. She felt suddenly irritated, at Emily's flirty teasing, at her own reaction to seeing Emily undressing, at her cowardice and inadequacy, at what happened last night. She swung the locker door back into its barricading position and finished putting on her swimsuit. Her irritation increased as she felt the tight fabric rub against her stomach, so she grabbed her swim cap and goggles and rushed out of the locker room, not waiting for Emily. She was determined to blow off some steam in the water today.

* * *

><p>The moment she felt the cool water envelop her warm body, she felt just a little bit better. Being in the pool allowed Paige to push everything out of her mind other than her body cutting through the water, her muscles burning, the sounds of the outside world muffled underwater. Paige began concentrating on warming up, pulling her body through the water slowly and steadily, focusing on reaching her arms out in long strokes, kicking her legs in rhythm. It felt good to do something physical, something that she was good at. Something that could take her mind off of Emily.<p>

As luck would have it, Emily and Paige were put into two lanes right next to each other for a practice relay. And they were both swimming anchor, so Paige was standing only a few feet away from her during the entire race. She kept her gaze off of Emily and put all her focus on what was happening in the pool. Each lane was already well into their third swimmer - a few of the lanes even had people on their way back to tag the wall. Paige stared at the sparkling water, focused on keeping her breathing steady, and visualized herself swimming the best lap she could.

"Good luck," Emily said from beside her and shot her a dazzling smile. "Thanks, you too," Paige answered tersely, trying and failing to keep herself from being distracted by that gorgeous grin. She felt her stomach do that dropping trick that it liked to do so often when Emily was around, and she curled her hands into fists, determined to stop it in its tracks. She switched her focus back to the pool just as the girl in her lane touched the wall. She dove, holding her breath, and sliced into the water in an effortless motion. As she began to pull herself through the water once more, all thoughts ceased except for one: swim.

Paige made it to the far end of the pool easily, keeping a steady pace, made a smooth turn, and kicked off the wall. She could hear nothing of the swimmers in the other lanes - only the rush of water around and her panting breath as she came up for air. She gauged her place in the pool and put on speed, determined to get the best time. Paige took one more stroke and felt her fingers brush the wall ahead of her. She burst out of the water, breathing heavily and turned around quickly - Emily was just a few seconds behind her, but she had definitely gotten there first. She allowed herself a broad grin as the coach called out her time - it was her best one yet.

* * *

><p>The rest of practice had passed surprisingly quickly for how terrible Paige had been feeling before she got into the pool. They had done a few more timed events, then worked on specific skill drills, and Paige felt herself succeeding at all of them. <em>Funny how emotional turmoil can make you swim that much better<em>, Paige mused to herself as she hopped out of the pool and made her way to the bleachers to grab a towel. She was wrapping the towel around herself when Coach Fulton came up and clapped her on the back firmly.

"Great job out there, McCullers. Your hard work has really paid off."

"Thanks, Coach. I've been working hard," replied Paige with a slight smile.

"And it shows! Now go hit the showers before you're late."

Paige walked into the locker room, showered with a few of her teammates chattering excitedly around her, and made her way back to her locker to change. Emily must have been in the other shower room, because the row their lockers were in was empty. Paige quickly stripped off her bathing suit and dried herself off - she needed to get dressed before Emily showed up to make sure she didn't see the wreck she had made of her stomach. Seeing the cuts dampened her mood a little, and she grimaced at how pink and puffy they looked after the hour and a half in the pool. She tried to dress as hastily as possible, but she only made it into her underwear and bra when Emily came up beside her. Paige grabbed her towel and held it in front of her, shielding her stomach from view in case Emily came any closer.

"Hey, you really looked great out there today. Your times are definitely improving," the brunette said while drying her hair with a towel.

"Thanks," Paige replied by route. She struggled into her pants one handed, still holding the towel up to her torso. She managed to get them on, even buttoned and zipped, before Emily stepped closer to her, yet again.

"No, I really mean it. You make it look so easy."

Emily put her hand on Paige's arm again and, in the process, knocked the towel out of Paige's hands and onto the floor. "Oops, sorry," she said, and bent down to pick it up. On the way back up, she caught sight of Paige's stomach and her eyes widened.

"Paige, what did you do to your stomach?"

The redhead practically snatched the towel from the other girl's hand and pressed it into her torso again. _Shit. Shit, shit, shit._

"My bike," she blurted, entirely too loudly for it to be plausible. "Yeah, um, I hit a rock and I fell off…last night, on the way back from the library. I'm okay, though. It stung like hell in the pool, but that's the worst of it. I guess I need to pay more attention when I'm biking, huh?" Paige rambled, her face white. _Please, not here, not now. _The look on the brunette's face when Paige said that awful thing at the picnic came flooding back and she suddenly felt the need to escape.

"Paige -" Emily started, but the redhead cut her off. It was fight or flight now, and there was no way she could go up against Emily and win.

"It's nothing, really, and I really need to go dry my hair." Paige tried to squeeze her way past Emily, not even thinking about the fact that she didn't have a shirt on, but the brunette stepped in front of her and grabbed her arm firmly.

"That doesn't look like any road rash I've ever seen. What really happened?"

"I told you, I got dumped off my bike. There was a rock, and I wasn't paying -"

"How stupid do you think I am, Paige?"

Emily looked almost…angry and Paige was puzzled by this. Emily had said that they could still be friends, but people said that all the time. Paige had learned to take those kind of declarations with a grain of salt - after all, no one had cared the last time she had cut, and that had gone on for years. Not one person had asked if she was okay, not even her father.

"I don't think you're stupid. But why do you care, Emily?" Paige burst out furtively, aware that there were other girls still in the locker room.

"You know why I care!"

"I really don't," Paige answered quietly and tried to turn away, but Emily didn't let her.

"Paige…look at me. Did you - did you do this to yourself?"

Paige struggled, trying to break free from Emily's grasp, but the brunette held on. Paige's anger flared again, and she wrenched her arm from Emily's hand, intent on getting out - out of the locker room, out of the school, out of this situation. But instead of letting go, like anyone else would have, the brunette held on tighter, her hands gripping Paige's upper arms. The redhead's eyes roved around the locker room, trying and failing to land anywhere but on Emily's face. They locked eyes and Paige didn't know what to do - it was like a dam had burst inside of her and everything was on the verge of flowing out.

"Yeah, okay? Yes, I cut myself last night. Is that what you wanted to hear?" She growled, her voice cracking. She held back a sob and she couldn't hold Emily's gaze. Her eyes were too kind, too worried, for Paige to handle. So Emily wrapped her arms around the other girl in a warm embrace, not minding that they were both underdressed. Paige struggled, still unwilling to let anybody in. But the smell and feel and warmth of Emily all around her comforted her, and she relaxed into the brunette's embrace. Her tears came in a flood, wetting Emily's shoulder. Paige's whole body was shaking perceptibly, and Emily held her tightly, rubbing her back and murmuring into her hair. All Paige could do was cry, bleeding out all the pain and frustration of the past few days. Swimmers filtered past, not bothering to look at the pair, and the ten-minute bell rang, but it was like they were in their own little world. Eventually, Paige's tears slowed, she stopped shaking, and Emily gently let her go, brushing the other girl's hair out of her face.

"I'm -" Paige started shakily, but Emily shushed her softly. The brunette knelt down, taking Paige's hand in her own and gently ran her other hand over her marred stomach. There were old scars along with fresh scabs, and Emily's breath hitched over the lump in her throat.

"What did you do, you beautiful girl?"

Paige didn't answer, and Emily looked up at her face in wonder, her brow furrowed and such love in her eyes that Paige didn't think she could handle it. And then Emily leaned forward and kissed her skin, again and again, hitting all of the scars that Paige had made, and all Paige could do was stand there, her eyes closed, with tears silently streaming down her face. When she opened them, Emily was on her feet, still holding her hand, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Why, Paige? Why would you hurt yourself like this?"

Paige took a shaky breath and moved to sit down on the bench behind them. Emily followed and, still holding her hand, she sat so close to Paige that their bare shoulders touched.

"I, um, well," Paige started, looking at the floor. "I hurt you," she said carefully. "At the picnic. 'I can't risk being seen with you.' And your - your face…you just looked like I had broken your heart."

Emily was aghast beside her, her mouth hanging open slightly. "But, Paige, I - you cut yourself because of _me_?"

"No! No, absolutely not. It was because of me. How I've treated you. You've been nothing but kind and wonderful and I…I don't deserve it. No one's ever cared about me before - the way you do, I mean, or you seem to." Paige kept her gaze fixed firmly on her lap. "And I've been awful to you so I… I'm really sorry. I know I've said it before, but I am. I really am," she finished softly.

"Paige…" Emily looked at her - into her, really. "I don't even know what to say. I can't believe you would - you're…" Flustered, she searched for words. "_Dammit_, Paige, I was hurt, yes, but I'm fixable. I understand how scared you are, I do, and it - it makes me feel sick to think that you would hurt yourself like that." She gently turned the redhead's face towards hers. "You deserve to be loved. And I'm sorry what I said before, to make you -"

"You didn't make me do anything, Emily! I just - I feel so terrible, all the time. I'm tiredof suppressing my feelings for you, and I'm so tiredof hurting you. Nothing I do has ever been good enough, and I thought cutting could fix that. But it doesn't. It just makes it worse, and then I hate myself even more than I already do."

"Don't say that."

"But it's the truth."

"You are enough," Emily answered fiercely, so fiercely that Paige started with surprise. "And whoever made it clear to you that you're not is a fucking idiot, okay? I wish you would just see how wonderful you are, Paige. You are incredible. And I swear to God, if you _ever_ hurt yourself again…"

"I just don't see why -"

"Why I care? Jesus, Paige, get it through your thick head! I like you, I care about you…and I want to be with you."

"You do?" Paige looked at Emily incredulously. _After all of this…_

"Yes! Didn't we go through this already? I mean, you pulled me up onstage for karaoke!" She smiled and playfully nudged Paige with her shoulder. "You're a ballsy woman, Paige McCullers. And I like ballsy women."

"I don't think I'm ballsy. I can't come out, I keep hurting you, I obviously can't process emotions like a normal human being."

"Hey - don't talk like that." Emily was suddenly serious, a protective edge creeping into her voice. "It's a process - something to work at. It's not going to happen all at once. And I'm sorry for trying to push you out of the closet. I just…I've been there before, and I don't want to go back."

"I know," Paige replied glumly. "That's why this can never work."

"We do work, though," Emily replied softly as she looked down at their hands. Their fingers were intertwined, fitting perfectly together, and the sight made her smile. "No matter how many times I tell myself that we're just friends, it never actually sinks in. No amount of pep talk stops me from being attracted to you, from feeling this connection with you. And I don't think I want it to."

"Me either," Paige said. "Before I got to know you, I was miserable. I had been stuffing my emotions inside myself for so long, and it just made me so unhappy. Before that, I was cutting myself every day. And it was because I felt like there was something wrong with me, that because I liked girls instead of boys, I deserved to be lonely and depressed."

Paige paused as she went back to that place - the locker room in sixth grade, the day she first cut, and the weeks and months and years after that. She shook her head gently, as if to bring herself back to the present, and turned to face the girl beside her.

"When I realized I had feelings for you, I couldn't handle it. So I tried to hurt you before you could hurt me. And I'm really sorry for that. It was completely unfair and cruel of me to take it out on you."

"Paige," Emily replied. "I forgive you. If I hadn't, do you think I'd be here right now?"

"No." The redhead managed a small smile. "And then on our date, at the karaoke bar, I've never felt more alive. Despite how scared I was, everything just felt right. And I want to feel that way again - I don't want to be afraid of the feelings I have for you anymore."

"You don't have to be. But if we decide to try this - for real this time - can you promise me something?"

"Anything."

"I just need you to start taking steps to being open about us, okay? You don't have to come out tomorrow or anything, just eventually."

"I promise," Paige replied, unable to suppress the smile that appeared on her face.

"I had Maya to help me through things, and I want to do the same for you. But when you get scared, you have to come to me instead of freaking out about it, alright? I've been there, and I know how it feels. We can do this," Emily finished firmly.

"I know we can. You are so much more important to me than staying in the closet. I promise you that I'll start being open about us, about who I really am." She paused. "Can I kiss you now?"

Emily leaned in and Paige met her halfway. The moment their lips touched again, they both knew that they were making the right decision. There was no way the intensity of their connection could be ignored or suppressed - it was futile trying. And though Paige was going to have to come out to her strict father, though Emily would have to explain their relationship to her friends, though they would have to keep their heads held high when their classmates made remarks, they were better going through all this together than trying to force themselves to stay away from each other.

When they broke the kiss, Paige was the first to speak, and it was all that needed to be said.

"I'm ready if you are."


End file.
